A Pheasant in Winter
by Pistolwink
Summary: Zhang He/Sima Yi romance bit written for my significant other. This was actually written five years ago but is one of my better pieces and a little bit more delicately written to boot. Very much M/M slash, though, and deserving of its M rating!
1. The Peacock and the Fox

He returns from the battle, claws bloodied, his dark hair tied back with a blue ribbon, as always, with the golden peacock ornament not even knocked ajar- somehow, even in the chaos that is war, he is forever beautiful...He sees everything in terms of beauty, organization, art. War is art to him. How he can find such a troublesome affair as anything but such is beyond the strategist as he watches the warrior's return.

Zhang He, Junyi...The man puzzles Wei's brightest mind like nothing else. He seems to be such an odd assortment of traits that would seem mutually exclusive, but somehow they meet in the tall man. He is fierce as a peacock, deceptively calm and serene until his passions roused- then the ground will, inevitably, be stained with the bright blood of his opponents. There he goes, thinks the silent observer, until the next bout-

Sima Zhongda is restless tonight. The moon is out, full, casting its ambient silver light on Wei's camp. He suspects that most of the troops have turned in for the night, although he can hear the sounds of men laughing and the occasional song, and can see the orange glow of some fires kept alive and well.

Junyi's narrowed eyes dart towards Zhongda's tent. He was standing there just a moment ago, the warrior knows- but already, the foxlike man has vanished into the safe confines of his territory. The warrior muses to himself for a few moments before walking towards the entrance. His guards are nowhere in sight, most likely run off by their cantankerous charge himself. A small smile on his delicate lips, he pushes the curtain aside, stepping unbidden into the other man's tent. It's a bold move to make.

Zhongda's back is turned when Junyi enters the inner sanctum of the tent. He wears a basic silk robe, extranneous finery removed for the night, with his customary headdress nowhere in sight. His hair is untied, cascading in silky ebon strands to mid-back. He stiffens as he senses the other's presence. Wheeling around, he turns to face the man who he had, only minutes ago, been watching. His eyes glinting amber, he stares at the intruder and asks, simply enough, what he is doing there.

Junyi, perpetually formal, is a match for the aloof Zhongda as he states his business: "Oh, just admiring the surrounding beauty..." His voice trails off at the end. Amber eyes narrow as Sima Yi senses, correctly or otherwise, that he is being toyed with- and he doesn't like it. "Oh?" he responds, trying to gauge the warrior's angle. Junyi is known for being flamboyant and slightly eccentric, so he isn't ready to react to the perceived taunt so quickly. "What beauty would that be, Zhang Junyi?"

"The beauty," Junyi waves his clawed hand in a flourish as he replies, "of Wei." Zhongda is impatient with the other man's games, and wishes to himself that the other would just as soon take off the damned claws if he's going to be flapping his arms about like a displaying cockerel while inside the tent. He scowls slightly. Then the warrior unexpectedly continues. "And mainly, the beauty of our Lord Strategist," he finishes with a bow.

Zhongda is still staring, perhaps a bit impatiently, at his guest. He still feels like he's being trifled with.

"Well, that's all well and good, but my beauty will turn into a ferocious sort indeed if you aren't out of here by the time I turn back around, General." He turns his back on the other man, hoping that the power of intimidation he has over many of the other officers and soldiers will aid him in this awkward, unexpected situation. He doesn't like awkwardness, nor does he like things that come unexpectedly. He likes his strategies, his statistics, his maps, his intelligence. He is lord of his domain, and he prefers things stay that way, but it doesn't seem that his will is the force in control this night. He feels a soft breath on the side of his neck; Junyi has discarded his weapons and lifted a lock of the ornery strategist's hair to his lips.

"So fragrant, like the blossoms in Spring..." he murmurs.

Now the younger man is starting to let his frustration show; he shoulders the warrior away and lets his voice sink to a quiet growl. "Out. Now," he snarls at the general. Furthuring his frustration and anger, he has a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach- for all he wants to hate it, to strike it down and be gone with it, he's feeling like the attention isn't as unwelcome as he would like it to be. He considers briefly that maybe it's that he's away from his home in the palace, that he hasn't had time to relax except for brief periods. However, even though he is married and has sons as would be expected from any dutiful man of his breeding, he has seen the way that some men and their wives seem to share affection; he hasn't ever had the desire, that he's been aware of, for anything of the sort. He's always considered such foolish displays to be of no importance, no worth. Now he's re-evaluating his stance on these matters. He is confused, and doesn't understand why something deemed so worthless is now being brought to mind.

He is suddenly aware that Junyi is watching him, with an ever-so-slightly mischeivous look in his eyes. Zhongda scowls again, making sure that he is making his displeasure known. His mind keeps bringing his attention round to the unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach, seemingly betraying him. Junyi's hand is on his shoulder, again, as the man leans in. "Zhongda," he whispers, his voice deep and soft. He feels like he's being ripped apart, two powerful warhorses pulling him in different directions, tearing his soul from his body. It's a rare situation when he feels this lost, this conflicted- he is a man of confident action, not this tug of war with his emotions, like some naive child. A second hand slides around his waist, sure and unwaivering. He swallows hard, an odd tightness in his chest, as the first hand slides over his shoulder and over his breast. Junyi is beautiful, he thinks to himself. There really isn't any denying it...The warmth of the warrior holding him is so inviting; it's like water after a grueling march through the harsh Northern desert...He drinks deeply; he can't stop himself.


	2. Luo Yang

His skin is cool, sweat chill on his back and shoulders. Mussed silken hair falls around his face, tousled in a bout of passion with Junyi. Running his hand through it as he sits up on the blankets, wondering what took hold of him...He replays the events in his mind as they start to sink in slowly. He is quick to write it all off to foolishness brought on by the moon, or excess energy, or being away from home- but he knows, no matter how many excuses he formulates in his mind, that the truth will not die. Long after he has tried to shoot it down over and over, he will know exactly what happened. The sooner he just admits the fact that he does, in fact, find Junyi more beautiful than any other; that his body does, in fact, require that certain hungers be sated; that he is, in fact, more possessing of emotions than he would sooner admit to anyone, the better.

He also knows that now that he has tasted this...feeling...he cannot get enough. And there is some part of him that is very afraid that now that he is hooked, his passionate lover will shift his focus elsewhere. Back in the palace at Luoyang, an insidious worry has slowly and stealthily worked its way into his mind; fear that the current peace, fragile though it may be, will lay another stone in the road to boredom and ultimate demise of his current contentment...Junyi is asleep next to him on the bed. Sighing, unable to sleep, he pulls a robe round his shoulders and pads, barefoot, towards the gardens in the hope of easing his troubled mind.

The nighttime breeze sighs softly in the gardens, the dark and silence calming. The air smells fresh, good, far different from the odors of smoke and blood of the fear-choked battlegrounds. This serene calm soothes his troubled mind, a rare haven. For all his love of exerting his cunning amidst the barbarism of war, the occasional respite is by no means unwelcome. Rare is the day where he doesn't come here, at least briefly, usually before he slinks off quietly to his lover's quarters. Junyi...His mind stubbornly returns to his insecurity, his fear of losing that which he treasures above all else.

A faint rustling over his shoulder draws him from his thoughts, and brings his attention to its source: the peacock general. He is here, once again saving him, albeit this time from the enslavement of his fears. Yi looks back towards the garden pool, the moon reflecting off of its still waters. He can't let his worries show...He doesn't show weakness, ever, and he doesn't plan on starting now. Zhang He walks toward his lover and stops behind him. "Do you remember?" he murmurs. "Fragrant, like the blossoms in Spring." The strategist nods slightly...He remembers as clearly as if it was yesterday, his strongest walls broken down by the warrior's softest touch.

Junyi had awakened to find his Lord gone and, concerned, slipped after him quickly- he had known where he would find the other man. He worries about Zhongda sometimes, how aloof he is...Surely, he has his own worries? But he never shares them with the warrior.

He forgets all that when he finds him under the cherry tree. Right now, there is just Sima Yi and him. His world is all here.

The strategist's tension evaporates at Zhang He's touch.


	3. Blood and Feathers

Back at the front, it is night when Wei's forces arrive at camp, and Zhongda dismounts his sleek black warhorse. Junyi has already turned over his grey charger to a groom and is waiting in the strategist's tent. Tired and slightly sore from the long ride, he discards his helmet, tossing it to a stack of woven mats, as he pushes aside the tent flap. Pulling his shoes from his feet and falling heavily into the blankets of his bed, he heaves a weary sigh. He starts momentarily at the tall figure in his tent, but quickly relaxes when he realizes it is his lover who emerges from the shadows. Staring up at the roof of the tent, Sima Yi rubs his temples in an effort to rid himself of the headache that the hot journey has given him.

Zhang He lies beside his lover, strokes a stray tendril of hair from his face, leans towards him. The younger man looks up at him as he is drawn into a deep kiss. He lies back, pulling Junyi down with him. Hands work their way into _yi_, mapping sinuous planes of muscle, gingerly tracing heated lines on rapidly rising and falling chests. Plying fingers find stiffened buttons of flesh, drawing forth more jagged breaths. Junyi is on top of him now, dextrously unworking the knotted ties of Zhongda's _shang_, now tossing the layers of cloth aside to bare his lover. The strategist has that same dull, empty ache that struck him that first night in his tent, the urgent need for a very specific sort of close proximity to the elegant general...The supple movements of Junyi's hips tell him that this feeling of his is something he shares with his lover. He smiles, weaving his fingers into Zhang He's long hair and reclines, enjoying the most exquisite ministrations of his attentive lover.


	4. The Wolf's Dreams

Sima Yi is prone to shut his emotions down when he worries too much with them. His love for Zhang He sometimes interferes, and he has some inkling that his withdrawal bothers the man, but he doesn't know what to do about it.

He worries that his fear of losing Junyi will interfere with his strategizing and planning. He sees the casualties, the deaths, the maiming. He knows that sometimes all of the skill in the world will not prevent fate from taking its course. More and more, he finds himself checking and re-checking his placement of Zhang He's unit in his strategies, and realizes that he would sooner send ten of Wei's best generals into battle before Junyi. Yet he knows that the general is a brilliant mind as well, and knows that failure to heed his warnings has ended in disaster for other, more unlucky men- most notably, Yuan Shao. He wonders how the older man put up with his former Lord's pretentious, unfounded arrogance. Surely he would be disappointed if he found out he was being held back? It's this fear of failing him that Wei's strategist feels has forced his hand in continuing to send the clawed warrior into battle.

Sometimes, he has nightmares that Zhang He doesn't return from battle. In these troubled dreams he waits and waits; others may return and his heart jumps in the hope that it's Junyi, but it never is. Worse yet are the sort where he doesn't wake up until he has gone onto the blood-soaked fields himself and finds his lover- sometimes crumpled like a crushed pheasant, shot with arrows, and sometimes he never finds him. He knows, in these dreams, that had he planned things differently, that he would be back at camp tending to his love. These days, the two almost always share a bed, and his fitful sleep often wakes up Junyi, who tries to rouse him- but Zhongda, plagued by these nightmares, looks at him with molten amber eyes full of pain and even a hint of anger...Zhang He never asks, even though he wishes he could make his lover's fears vanish. Often they seem to vanish with the rising sun, but in truth, the strategist has merely shoveled them under a million other thoughts of business that needs doing, court duties, and so on. He doesn't like to think about them at all, and sometimes he blames himself, in his very typical seething rage, for having gotten into such a situation that affects him in his performance of duties.

With Wu more or less of no consequence at this point, he blames his rival in Shu, that accursed Sleeping Dragon- Zhuge Liang- for taking away his treasure. He never sees enemies in these dreams but somehow there's always the nagging realization that Shu is responsible. He distances himself while awake, but somehow, in dreams, his fears and insecurities catch up to him.

Regardless, he vows never to do any less than his best so as to protect the general.


	5. The Pheasant's Mate

Zhang He gets jealous sometimes. He would never display it, as to do so would be devoid of class and poise. However, he does sometimes wish that Sima Yi would talk to him from time to time- he knows that he has his own worries. He also realizes that the ambitious man bores of things easily, and when things become boring, he takes to toying with people and situations in order to provide himself with amusement. Again, it's a thought that lacks grace, Junyi thinks to himself- but he does wonder if sometimes Zhongda will tire of him.

Adding to his fear is the fact that he hasn't seen Sima Zhongda in a couple of days, Sometimes he falls asleep in his study, and sometimes in his own quarters, stark though they are since the two began sharing a bed, if he has been up late poring over maps and writings. However, he almost never misses two nights in a row.

"Has he found another...?" Zhang He silently asks himself. He shakes his head- it can't be. "No, no," he thinks to himself. "Master Sima is far too hard-headed." He would never be cajoled into submitting to anyone; not even Cao Cao has any real control over his self-willed strategist.

Junyi catches himself fretting again, realizing it just isn't very composed to let his thoughts wander so. At this point it's too late, though, and he's now worrying over all of the what ifs.

Little does he know that the strategist is, in fact, in the study, obsessing over manuscripts and plans, trying to keep his mind from the latest rash of nightmares. He doesn't want to see Junyi, fearful that he will be reminded of those horrible images, and he doesn't really want to see anyone else, either. Besides verbally abusing a palace servant for bringing him tea that had gone cold, he hasn't interacted with anyone.

The general has already practiced his fighting for the day, trying to relieve his stress that way, but it isn't working. He figures to himself that he'll go check Zhongda's quarters first, then the rooms they share together. Not finding anyone in the first location, he has to concentrate on keeping himself from running as he walks to the palace wing where they sleep. Scenarios of decreasing liklihood keep popping into his mind, until finally, he can't take it any more and breaks into a run. He bursts into the central room of their suite, calling out for Zhongda. He's really worried now; he knows that his lover hadn't been sleeping well, and that fact just adds to his concern.

It seems like it takes him an eternity to reach the study. Here too, he flings open the door, and much to his relief, finds Sima Yi. The younger man is in his formal attire, but he looks unkempt and tired; his eyes are red and stray wisps of hair have worked their way out of the usual tidy bun he wears under his headdress. He barely moves when the general flies at him, a storm of worry and doting and affection. He knows he can't avoid his fears forever, and realizes now how Zhang He tends to soothe him- he remembers their times in the gardens, how much of a relief it actually is for him to wake up from a night terror and see the one he really does love there. He collapses into the warrior's arms, not even bothering to replace his scrolls into their tubes.

Junyi is feeling a little guilty- his lover looks like he's been trampled by an entire army. He notices how trusting Zhongda is when he sinks into his waiting arms, how he presses his face to Junyi's chest, and he wonders how he could have doubted the strategist. The cunning man isn't one to inspire trust in most people, but Zhang He knows that Zhongda has always been straightforward, even blunt, with him. He has gone so far to speak to the depth of his ambition, something he would not do with any but his most trusted. Junyi could hold him close for an eternity but he takes the bedraggled man by the hand and leads him back to their quarters.


	6. Spring Buds

Sima Yi wakes up the next morning, relieved to have slept uneventfully. He feels a pang of regret- Junyi looked so worried yesterday when he had entered the study. He looks back on the time that has passed since that first night in his tent at the front, how flustered and confused he had felt. Now he muses at how he cannot imagine a life without the general in it. He never guessed that any form of domestic situation would result in the happiness he feels now.

Zhang He enters the bedchamber, a pleasant expression on his face as he carries in a tray of tea. He sets it down on a small laquer table before sitting down on the bed.

"I, ah..." Zhongda frowns. He doesn't apologize, ever. "Ech...I, uh, well...You look worried. I, well...I am sorry for worrying you." He ponders going on, admitting that he wouldn't have guessed that Junyi would be so concerned about him; that would be too much. He stares down at his lap. "I am afraid of losing you sometimes. I have dreams..."

Junyi leans over and kisses him on the forehead.


	7. Peacock and Fox, Revisited

It is nighttime and the moon is once again full. Cool light shines in the palace window, casting the geometric shapes of the wood screen onto the floor and the rhythmic movements of Sima Yi's bare back as he kneels straddling Junyi's narrow hips. Their breaths come in short, hot bursts; Zhongda's _yi_ is puddled around his wrists and waist. He throws his head back, clamping his eyes shut in the almost unbearable pleasure he is feeling astride his beloved. Zhang He guides his lover's hips with one hand as he teases and caresses the silky heat with the other, thoroughly enjoying delivering these pleasures to the strategist.

Zhongda, too, savors the sweet fullness he's experiencing. He braces his hands on Junyi's chest, feeling its rapid rise and fall. He knows the pleasure he's giving his beloved, and that makes it all the more enjoyable for him. He could explore every inch of the older man's body for an eternity and never tire of it. He rides the cresting wave of pleasure, crying out as Zhang He brings him to climax, now hunching over, sobbing for breath...Junyi isn't long behind him with a moaning shout of his own.

Sima Yi sleeps soundly that night, and Junyi knows he owns the other's heart.


End file.
